


Blood Stains

by angededesespoir



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark!kagami, Eye Trauma, Gen, Horror, Murder, Nightmares, Other, POV Second Person, blood mention, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29629758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angededesespoir/pseuds/angededesespoir
Summary: (Done for a challenge.)Danzo cannot escape his past.
Relationships: Shimura Danzou & Uchiha Kagami
Collections: Naruto Multishippers Anonymous





	Blood Stains

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I’d be writing Danzo, but here we are.
> 
> This was for a challenge. The Prompt I generated was Setting: western/utopia; Theme:overcoming-of-fear/downfall story. I didn’t do the western part. And I went w/ Second Person for this.
> 
> (Can also be read on [Tumblr](https://angededesespoir.tumblr.com/post/643817655183327232/blood-stains).)

You shoot up in bed, panting heavily. The room, typically covered in darkness too thick to see in during the night, is now dyed in shades of red and black. Your eye- _his eye_ \- aches and without thinking your _(not yours, either)_ hand reaches up, feels the twitching muscle under the already drying blood. You can’t help but tremble as you struggle for breath. (And oh how that reminds you of the sound he made taking his last. How your hands trembled then, too, wrapped around the hilt of the sword, stained with his blood.)

You are half afraid to look at the corner, his presence still strong in your mind. You swallow with effort and force yourself to look, anyway.

Nothing there. Of course there isn’t. _Stupid fool._ If there had been, the men stationed at your door would have already taken care of it by now. You’d be surrounded, staring at a corpse, instead of alone with nothing but an afterimage.

You lean back, try to ease the tension from your aching muscles as the coolness of the wall seeps through your shirt. You suppress a shiver as you let out a breath.

You do not know why this is happening now, so many years after you found the courage to make a move, to craft your perfect society. You thought you had vanquished the darkness, and now it creeps into your dreams, into the peripheral of your vision, walking in your shadow. How many nights had you woken to the feel of his hand on your throat or him standing at the edge of your bed, boring holes into you despite the absence of his eyes? How many nights had terror overtaken your senses? How many days did you wait in anticipation of those nights?

Enough was enough. You knew you had to find a way to make this stop before it progressed any further. One way or another you would put an end to this.

\-- 

The next time he comes to you, it is not in a dream, but from the shadows. You sense him before you see him.

You have been on edge all day, mind drifting back to _him_ , paranoia gnawing. You let the mask slip one too many times in front of the wrong people and then you find some of your subordinates are whispering behind your back. The rest, _the wiser_ , walk on eggshells and dare not speak a word. You pretend not to notice, but take note.

They can be punished later; no one will stand in the way of the dream you have worked so hard to create.

But right now, you face a more pressing issue. _He_ is there in your room and for once, instead of fear, you are flooded with anger.

_How dare he come now, threaten to destroy your creation._

You’re shouting- so unlike you- before you can think, before you can sense if there’s anyone around who can hear.

“The past is dead and so are you! Be gone!”

Without thinking, the kunai flies from your hand, strikes the mirror- surface fracturing, but not falling. You watch the distorted image as the hand raises and grasps your shoulder.

“I assure you, I am very much alive.”

You can tell it’s his voice, but it doesn’t feel like him.

Your heart hammers as you curl your hands into fists.

“No, you aren’t. You’re a ghost of the wretched past. You’re just in my head. _Leave_.”

Pain blooms in your back, sudden and intense. You gasp, brain struggling to catch up, to assign cause. Your eyes flicker across the reflection, fall onto the unsmiling face peering from behind you.

“I have always feared having to fight those I love, but sometimes it is necessary to fight. I will not stand by while you further desecrate Konoha. I will bring this land back to the utopia it was meant to be.”

You hiss as the dagger twists deeper.

_“Goodbye, Danzo.”_

There’s a searing pain shooting through your eyes and suddenly you can’t see, you can’t move. You can’t hear anything over your own scream.

And then you can’t feel anything but the twin trails of blood sliding down your face and the feel of arms surrounding you.


End file.
